On Face Value
by celinenaville
Summary: A conversation between Amy and Face wherein Amy tries to sort out what lay behind Face's charm.


There was silence for a minute as Amy and Face found themselves alone. Face picked up a roll from the bread basket on the table. "Here, try my buns," he said with a smile.

Amy rolled her eyes. "You never give up do you?" She asked bemusedly.

"You'll like them," he winked.

She laughed and conceded. "Okay, let me have a taste."

"Once you do, you'll keep coming back." He let the innuendo hang in the air another moment and took a sip of wine.

Amy spread some butter on the homemade bread and took a bite. "Wow. This is good… Face, I didn't know you like to cook."

He flashed her his usual toothy white grin. "I don't. Murdock made them, I think."

Amy set the roll down. "Oh great. Are they edible?"

He shrugged. "I had three of them earlier and I'm still alive. That's a good sign."

She shook her head. "You guys are… Well, indescribable, really."

He furrowed his brow. "Are we?"

Amy watched the expression and let it register again just how handsome he really was. Setting sunlight slanting through the window caught the golden highlights in his hair. His cobalt eyes were locked on her in interest. Not in his usual predatory way – just a sudden, certain presence, like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. He looked different without his usual guile and she paused, lost for words.

"Yes, you are… Always on the edge… Never serious…"

"Oh, I can be serious," he said suddenly. "I don't always like it, you know, Amy."

"Face, c'mon, you're so good at it."

He shrugged. "Force of habit. Sometimes I like to feel safe."

"When do you feel safe?" She asked curiously.

He shrugged, tilted his head. "In a woman's arms."

Amy snorted. "Oh Face, give it up!"

"Give what up?"

"That is such bullshit answer."

"Amy. I'm hurt. How could you think that of me?" He asked plaintively – and she saw that his wall was back in place. He was purposely laying on the charm, playing on her guilt. The curious reporter side of her wanted him to revert back to the vulnerable side she'd only gotten a glimpse of. She raised her hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "Okay. You win. I'm sorry."

He looked at her coolly a moment. Amy realized he'd need more coaxing come back out of his charming shell. "Face," she touched his arm. "Really… I'm sorry. It just… It sounded like a pickup line. It's just… It's hard to tell if you're being genuine sometimes."

He looked a little hurt for a moment. -Not the over-the-top, feigned hurt he showed her couple of seconds ago, but something a little more subtle and fleeting. "Yeah, well, occupational hazard of being the con man," he replied with a grin. "I mean, I do this because I _have_ to. I guess sometimes it's unintentional but really I almost don't _know_ any other way to be."

"The charm is just part of you, isn't it?" Amy tried to keep her expression neutral.

"Kind of, but, you know – it's the only attention I got – as an orphan I mean. I found that when people liked me, things were... better."

She smiled indulgently. "How could someone _not _like you, Face?"

Templeton Peck, for it was Templeton Peck she was talking to now – not "The Faceman," shrugged. "I know some people who aren't fans. Including my own parents, obviously."

Amy felt a wave of sympathy wash over her. "Oh, Face. Don't say that. You were just a kid."

He looked at his wine and swirled it around the glass. "Something like that… It sticks with you. Makes you a different person in a way… And _women_, Amy, women _understand_ that." His eyes met hers. "I've always been at ease with them. They just… I don't know, feel for you in a different way. Listen in a different way."

"Then why not one woman, Face? Why so many?" Amy toyed with the fork on her plate of spaghetti for a moment. "I mean it doesn't exactly look like a point in your favor."

"I don't know. Love gets so…_ Complicated_ when you start putting rules with it."

"See, now that's sounds like a line too."

"If it isn't complicated then why aren't _you_ married?"

Amy crossed her arms. "I just haven't found the right person yet."

Face shrugged. "Maybe… And maybe I haven't either. Or maybe it's more complicated than we want it to be. Maybe we're not meant to be with one person our whole lives. I don't know."

"You've spent your whole lives with your friends." She pointed out. "Perhaps you're married to the team."

"Oh God, don't give me nightmares!"

Amy laughed. "Oh come on."

"Well," Face conceded, "in many ways they are the only family have ever had."

"Does that scare you?"

"A lot of things scare me, Amy."

"Like what?"

"I'm afraid that this will always be my life. That this…" He swept his hand around his apartment, "is all there is. And I'm also scared," he dropped his voice, "that maybe this isn't all there is and I'm missing out on it." And as he said it Amy thought his expression looked nothing more than a young boy's.

"I'm lost…" Face whispered. Then he sat back with a nervous laugh. "Wow. This wine is a little stronger than I thought. I'm lost for words… at and how tired I am suddenly."

Amy smiled knowingly and picked up her plate. "Let me help you clear the table. And thanks for the food. I was so hungry."

"Any time, kid. I'll let Murdock know you liked his buns. He'll like that."

Amy blushed and rolled her eyes. Face moved to help her clear the table. She watched his profile a moment. "In woman's arms, huh?"

He straightened, "Wow. You're just nosy tonight, aren't you?" He gave his nervous laugh again. "You aren't writing a paper on me, are you?" She took the plate from his hands and walked over to the sink. "No. We never have time to talk. It's interesting to know the people I work with."

He cleared his throat and turned on the water. "And I'm the easiest mark, huh?"

Amy furrowed her brow. "An easy mark. What are you talking about?"

"Well," Face put a hand in his pocket and gestured with the other one. "BA isn't exactly talkative on his best days. Hannibal… Well, Hannibal doesn't fall for anything and Murdock… Well, he's indisposed most of the time."

Amy shook her head. "I visit Murdock in the VA," she protested.

His expression registered shock, then knowing. "You have a soft spot for him, don't you?"

"What? No!"

He nodded. "Yes you do. It's okay, we all do."

Amy dipped her hands in the sudsy sink and shrugged. He'd turned the tables on her. How characteristically _Face_. She thought of Murdock, alone in a place he didn't belong.

"I feel sorry for him," as she said the words her eyes started to well. Suddenly, Face closed the space between them and took her hands between his. "Amy, we all do."

She yanked her hands away and dried them on a towel near the fridge. Inexplicably angry that Face had laid her bare. She shut off the sink and turned to look at him, arms crossed. Her pretty chin tilted up in defiance.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Face asked.

"He's just a friend." She protested.

"I never said he was anything else," Face responded.

She greeted him with more silence.

He exploded suddenly, "What? You think you have a monopoly on feeling bad for him? You don't think it bothers me to see him there? _Hmmmm?_"

Amy was taken aback by his sudden forcefulness. She raised her hands placatingly. "You're right. You're right. I'm sorry."

The fire left his eyes as quickly as it had come. His voice grew quieter."I'm sorry too. Murdock is just… He's a good guy."

"You're all good guys, Face."

He snorted. "Yeah… Well, he's had a rough time."

There was a pause. "Is Murdock really crazy?"

Face smiled. "Well, that's the million-dollar question, isn't it?" He looked down. "I mean, we're all crazy in our own ways. Murdock's just a little… unique with his. He's kept us laughing through some pretty tough times."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Faceman caught her gaze with his blue eyes. The same blue eyes that so few could say no to. "No. It doesn't," he replied. "Why don't you ask Murdock?"

She glared at him. "Maybe I'll ask him why you're such a pain."

He smiled. "He'd probably have an answer for you… but the only one who truly knows what goes on inside Murdock's head… is… well, Murdock."

"Was he the same before, Face?"

This time there was a distinctly long pause before Face spoke again. "Yes… And no." He half closed his eyes and looked out from under the obstructed view of his long lashes as he spoke. "His call sign was Howlin' Mad. He was always a little off center… He was crazy with those planes, a risk taker. He did things with a chopper no one else would've dared. Smart though… same sense of humor. Same brightness – he just didn't have imaginary animals with him… that he told us about anyway." Face tried a smile, but it was a little more than a flash of perfectly bonded teeth.

Amy realized that she wasn't going to get any further with him. How could she work with these men so intimately and yet how they managed to remain an enigma bothered her. There were secrets here shared between them no one else was privy to. Not even her. It made her feel slightly outside the circle, like she prowled around the perimeter, but could never step over the line.

She looked back up at Face. He looked sad. Tired. He turned away to rinse the dishes and load them into the dishwasher with hunched shoulders. She felt what he needed.

Amy closed the gap between them and when he finally turned around, she embraced him. He stiffened at first, taken aback. She could feel the tension in his back, but he put his arm lightly around her after a moment and exhaled deeply. She moved her hand in a calming circular motion over his shoulder blade. "Even when you're not trying to be likable – you're likable." She told him. "I don't know how much longer paths will intertwine, but I'm glad to have known you, Templeton."

He gave her a squeeze. "Thanks Amy."

They pulled away, Face still with one arm slung casually over her shoulder. Amy smiled at him, and as he responded in kind, she realized how much he tried to hide behind that smile. Layers and layers of Templeton Peck lingering in the shadows. She cleared her throat.

"I gotta go, you know. I still have a column to write."

"Okay, go write your column. I'll see you later." He gave her a last friendly squeeze and escorted her to the door. "And don't you worry about Murdock. He'll be okay. He's tougher than he looks."

"So are you," she replied as she stepped outside.

Face shrugged. "So are you." He winked with another smile and closed the door.


End file.
